


there's such a thing as too much horn talk and a fella ought to be aware

by h311agay



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: crackfic, dick size discussion, seriously, thats what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h311agay/pseuds/h311agay
Summary: theres dick discourse on tumblr? idk.decided to write a crack fic bc of it.Title is a Letterkenny quote lmao
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	there's such a thing as too much horn talk and a fella ought to be aware

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dyingpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/gifts).



Sodapop had no idea how the conversation had gotten to this point, but he was reeling with laughter, almost choking on his own saliva.

“No,” Dally said with a deep scowl, “I am not talkin’ ‘bout dick size with you guys.”

“Awe, c’mon,” Steve said, saddling up next to Dally who roughly shoved him away. “When you say it like that, makes me think you’ve got a small dick,” he laughed as he fell back onto the floor from Dally’s shove.

“I will stomp on your neck,” Dally growled, making the rest of the gang burst into giggles. Johnny handed him a joint, rolling his eyes. “Johnny,” Sodpop said, “Does Dally have a big dick? Or a small one?”

Johnny grinned slightly, shrugging his shoulders. “I dunno. I’ve only ever purposefully looked at two dicks in my life.”

“Oh, what, you hadn’t seen any in the locker rooms in high school?”

“I was doin’ everythin’ in my power to _not_ see dicks in the locker room,” Johnny said, stretching on the couch and leaning against Dally. “Saw a few, yeah, but never looked long enough to study them or anythin’.”

“Alright, well is Dal a grower or a shower?” Dally whipped his head around and glared hard at Sodapop, and if this had been two years earlier, Soda would have expected to lose a few teeth, but Johnny had definitely turned Dally soft. He was one of those dogs now who were all bark and no bite around the gang. Instead, he blew a kiss at the older man and winked. “Well if you ain’t gonna fess up, I _have_ to ask your boyfriend, so…” He trailed off, shrugging.

Johnny held his hands up in surrender, “I plead the fifth,” he said. “Ain’t my place to talk. All I’m gonna say is _I_ find it satisfactory.”

Dally grumbled something under his breath, but Soda missed it when Steve nudged him to hand him the joint. He took a couple of puffs off the joint, giggling to himself, before passing it along to Two-Bit.

Two took the joint and took a long drag. “Alright,” he said through his exhale, “I’ll bite the bullet. Flaccid, I’m four inches. Hard, I’m jus’ shy of seven.”

The group burst into giggles, but Soda noticed Dally scowl deeper, crossing his arms and sinking into the couch. “Soft, I’m at four,” Soda said, nudging Two-Bit and chuckling. “Hard I get up to eight.”

“I do _not_ ,” Dallas said, voice angry, “Need to know _anythin’_ ‘bout your fuckin’ dicks.”

Darry took the joint from Keith, “I’m a shower,” he said, taking a hit. “Seven flaccid, don’t get much bigger when hard.”

Sodapop screwed up his face, “God, I forgot that my brothers were here.”

“Yeah,” Dally snapped, “Wanna hear more ‘bout your brothers’ dicks? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t.”

Soda was quiet for a moment before turning to Ponyboy, whose face was steadily growing more and more red. He grinned wide at his little brother, “Alright, Pony. What ‘bout you?”

Ponyboy shifted, declining the joint when it came back around to him and handed it off to Johnny instead. “I, uh, kind of agree with Dal. Don’t really wanna tell y’all my dick size.”

“Thank you!” Dally said loudly, throwing his hands into the air, startling Johnny some. “Fuckin’ weirdos, the lot of you.”

“I never measured,” Johnny said, “But I reckon I’m five an’ half inches. Don’t take much brain power to look an’ figure it out,” he said. Dally slowly turned to face Johnny, his bright blue eyes open wide and betrayal was written into every single one of his features.

“You--” he stammered, “I _trusted_ you.”

“Well if Johnny’s sayin’ his, I guess I gotta say mine,” Pony said. “I don’t know ‘bout flaccid, but hard I’m, uh, probably somewhere ‘round eight or nine inches.”

Two-Bit hollered and jumped up from his seat to lift Ponyboy up. “Look at you, kid! Biggest dick of the group so far!” Pony awkwardly laughed as Two-Bit spun him around. His face was bright red when Two put him down and ruffled his hair.

“Uh th-thanks?”

Soda was wheezing with laughter, doubled over, threatening to fall off the edge of the loveseat he was precariously perched on. Steve handed the joint to Sodapop, who dropped it because of his shaking hands, making him laugh harder. “Jesus,” he said between gasps, “Christ, Ponyboy. How’d _you_ get the biggest dick of the family?”

Ponyboy shrugged, “I dunno,” he mumbled, sitting back down in the armchair. “Genetics?”

“An’ you ain’t even _utilisin’_ it,” Soda said with a shake of his head. “Fuckin’ hell, Ponyboy.”

Steve was still sitting on the floor between the loveseat and couch, and from there he spoke up. “I’m pretty average, I think. Based off of what y’all have been sayin’. Also not a grower. You get six inches, take it or leave it.”

Soda snorted, “I already knew _your_ dick size.”

“Care to clarify?” Two-Bit said as he sat back down next to Sodapop.

“You tellin’ me you an’ Darry never compared sizes when y’all were teens? ‘Cause that’s how I know Steve’s.” Soda wasn’t even embarrassed to admit that, he leaned back against the arm of his seat, and picked his feet up from the floor, putting them in Two-Bit’s lap with a pointed look.

“Fair ‘nough,” Darry said from where he was standing behind the loveseat, before snatching the joint out of Two-Bit’s mouth. “Alright, Dal, that’s all of us. Your turn.”

“No,” he said darkly, crossing his arms again.

“Refusin’ to tell us tells _me_ ,” Soda started with a slight giggle, “That you ain’t got much to work with, Dallas.”

“I have got _plenty_ to work with,” Dally said defensively, and Johnny grinned mischievously.

“I can vouch an’ say he does,” he said, putting a hand over his heart. “Personally, with my first hand experience,” Soda giggled at the phrasing, “I can confidently rate it five stars.”  
“Still doesn’t tell us how big it is,” Steve said from the floor, and Dally raised his fist like he was gonna punch him.

“Seriously, the lot of you are ‘bout thirty seconds from gettin’ your asses kicked. Drop it.”

Two-Bit rifled through his pockets until he pulled out his wallet, and produced a couple of bills. “Alright, Dal,” he said. “Fifty right here if you tell us how big your dick is.”

“I don’t need your money,” Dally said with narrowed eyes.

Steve hopped up off the floor and ran down the hallway before returning with his wallet, pulling money out of it as well. “Add another thirty to that?”

“I _will_ punch each an’ every one of you,” Dallas hissed between gritted teeth, face getting red.

Sodapop and Ponyboy must have had the same idea, because they both started for the stairs at the same time, Soda pushed past Ponyboy to try and get up the steps first, and they stumbled over each other, splitting off into their respective rooms. He heard Ponyboy stomping down the steps before him, and followed behind a few moments later, combing through his own wallet as Ponyboy produced another twenty bucks.

“You’re up to a hundred dollars to tell us your dick size, Dal,” Pony said.

“Make it one-fifty,” Soda said, pulling out money.

Darry walked into the living room with his wallet and gave Dallas a cheeky grin. “Two-hundred, total,” he said, holding up his own money.

Johnny raised his eyebrows at the amount. “I mean, I wouldn’t wanna be the guy to refuse two hundred dollars, Dal, but that’s up to you.”

The rest of the gang stood around the couch, waving their money around to entice Dally to answer. “C’mooon,” Sodapop said. “When are you ever gonna get another opportunity to get _two hundred_ dollars jus’ by tellin’ someone how big your dick is?”

Dally’s face was red, and Sodapop couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment, or both, but he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from bursting into a fit of laughter again. Dally stood up suddenly and Sodapop _was_ smart enough to jump back and out of Dallas’ potential reach. Dally took a deep breath and then shoved past the group of them, storming out the back door.

Sodapop was impressed; maybe those anger management classes really were paying off for Dallas. The gang started putting their money back into their wallets.

Soda shrugged as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket, “Guess the mystery remains for another day.”

“Y’all were really testin’ him there,” Johnny said from his seat, sprawling out some now that he was the only one sitting on it. “Really expected him to punch one of you. Specifically you Soda,” he chuckled. “Watch yourself.”

“Aw, I woulda deserved it,” Soda said, throwing himself onto the couch next to Johnny. “I know he’s a private man,” he laughed. “He’s got an image to keep up, I seen it all before. I also seen how soft he’s gettin’ ‘cause of you. So if he’s punchin’ me, I _probably_ pushed it too far.”

The gang settled back into seats to watch television, small side conversations started up, but Soda was more focused on the cowboy show that was playing. All the sounds from the television kept him focused on it, that was until Dallas came back in from smoking and Johnny straightened up to make room for him on the couch, and Soda had to move down slightly.

As he looked up, he made eye contact with Dally accidentally, and his heart froze just momentarily, because Dallas was still a very intimidating man, with his sharp eyes and sharp cheekbones, and the scars that decorated his face.

“Three an’ a half inches,” Dally said as he stared right into Soda’s eyes, and Soda was suddenly filled with hysterics. It took all of his strength to _not_ laugh at Dallas Winston, who had just told him he had a smaller than average dick size. That would definitely be a death sentence. 

He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his voice level when he responded, trying to keep his lips from curling up into a smile, “An’ you refused the two hundred dollars?” Soda realised the rest of the gang had gone silent, the cowboys on the television were now entirely too loud in Sodapop’s opinion.

“Like I said, I don’t need your money.” He turned to address the rest of the group, “I want each an’ everyone one of you fuckers to look me in the eye an’ tell me you have left every single one of your sexual partners completely satisfied, an’ then I will let you laugh at my dick size. ‘Cause I have never _once_ been a disappointment to someone I’m fuckin’ ‘round with, even with my three-and-a-half-inch-dick,” he said, stringing the last bit together.

He turned back to face Soda, who was too embarrassed to make eye contact at this point, and he looked down into his lap. “I, uh, g-guess I can’t say that,” Soda said nervously as he felt the heat of Dally’s glare.

“Yeah, didn’t fuckin’ think so. You all think the fact you got an average or bigger than average dick means your doin’ your partners a fuckin’ favour by stickin’ it in there. Let me tell ya, I’ve been on the receivin’ end of big dicks an’ most of the time, they _fuckin’_ suck. It ain’t ‘bout what you have, but how you fuckin’ use it. So I hope you shitheads all learned somethin’ here today.”

“Yeah,” Soda said, trying hard to bite back his grin; he would not break, or else Dally would _break_ him. “We learned that you got a three an’ a half inch dick.”

“Do. Not. Push. Me.”

“Johnny, is he really all that good?”

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, leaning up against Dally. “It’s not like I’ve done anythin’ with anyone else. But I really do, uh, enjoy it,” his face was growing dark as he spoke. “I’ve yet to be disappointed, he’s not lyin’ ‘bout that.”

“Well, fuck,” Two-Bit said, crossing his arms. “Now I’ve gotta start gettin’ new material, ‘cause I say somethin’ ‘bout small dicks, an’ Dal’s gonna knock a coupla of teeth out.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dally said, “I’ll make you look real fuckin’ pretty, Two.”

**Author's Note:**

> Johnny, later that night: You should've taken their money


End file.
